I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled

I became old sometime between two and four this morning.

I slept really crappy last night, in fact, I'm not sure if I slept at all. Before bed I sorted through my stack of magazines. (I believe that I mentioned before I went to Canada that I got freebie subscriptions to Good Housekeeping and Cosmopolitan. I wasn't too thrilled with either of these, but hey, they were free.) So, I was reading an article about heart disease in women and lay awake after that for quite sometime very aware of my heart and its beating. I felt pretty ancient at that point already, much like I do when I forget to floss and feel genuinely guilty about it.

I got older still a bit later though when I gave up on sleep and crawled into the bathtub with Cosmopolitan. Cosmo...is just sad when you are 34. They referenced Lindsay Lohan (as a positive role model!) at least a half dozen times. So after twenty minutes of rapid paging, I moved on to Good Housekeeping. And I really liked it. I dog-eared about ten pages. I believe that that is the official sign of elderliness; preferring Good Housekeeping to Cosmo. I also believe that referencing 'The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock' in your blog is indicative of something, but I'm not sure what.